Understanding Takes Patience
by IluvSeverusSnape
Summary: Severus Snape is a secretive man, concealing himself behind a wall of sarcasm and verbal abuse. No one cares about his life, because he doesn't want anyone to know. But what if someone tries to break that wall? To understand? Rated T for safety, OOTP book
1. Reporting to the Light

**~* REPORTING TO THE LIGHT*~**

_~ Three weeks after the return of Lord Voldemort~_

Severus Snape arrived outside 12 Grimmauld Place, unsteady on his apparition arrival, due to the slow, tormenting rain, drizzling down and causing puddles on the ground. The summer's evening was unnaturally dark already, and the droplets seem to drop from invisible clouds. He walked furiously up to the tall, crooked building he loathed, snarling as he stepped blindly into a deep puddle on the doorstep. He rapped on the door, and counted 20 wasted seconds before it was answered by Molly Weasley.

"Oh!" she quickly stepped aside to let him in, "Professor Snape! Come in!" but he had already walked in, warming and drying himself with a languid whip of the wand. The house was old and smelt musty, and he felt hatred boil up as he realised this was the house of his enemy. This was the Black residence, and true to the name, it was grim, old, and dimly lit.

Molly Weasley hurried up to him. " Dumbledore's in the kitchen, along with the Order. They're all waiting for you before they begin." A Weasley twin could be seen, lurking under the stairs, back to them, shoulders moving suspiciously. "GEORGE!" Mrs Weasley yelled. The red-head dropped what he was holding, and with a small explosion and horrible rotten pong, revealed it was a dung bomb. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOUNG MAN? THIS IS NO TIME TO-" but George apparated mid-sentence, leaving his mother shaking with rage. Snape realised how tired she was looking, and her flustered appearance betrayed the fake smile she put on as she led him to the kitchen.

Snape studied the room's occupants, all looking either worried, stressed or jumpy; the exception was Dumbledore, who smiled and indicated an empty seat between Tonks and Moody. To his contempt, he saw Sirius, lounging on his chair, looking tired and lacking his normal smirk.

"Wotcher, 'fessor Snape," Tonks said weakly as he sat next to her. He nodded sharply.

"How y'doin', Snivellus?" Sirius yawned. Snape bit back a growl and ignored this remark.

"Dumbledore? Are you going to start or what?" Moody banged his staff on the ground impatiently. Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, Remus is still working with the werewolves, and he owls to tell me he is making sparse progress," he said with a sigh. "Cornelius Fudge is, under no circumstances going to accept Voldemort's return-" most of the people in the room reacted to the name: Moody tapped his staff lightly, some jumped and Molly Weasley gasped. Tonks sighed heftily.

"Are you lot ever going to get over his _name_?" she said in an exasperated tone."You're doing exactly what he wants if you fear him! Everyone said Grindelwald's name! He's just another evil guy, who wants respect he hasn't earned, damn well misused it, as a matter of fact!" she pounded the table with her fist.

Snape silently agreed with her, she had a point. If the Order couldn't say his name, how would the public react?

"Bad news all around. There is not much else to report apart from...Severus?" Dumbledore nodded towards him.

Snape straightened up a little, "The Dark Lord-"

"_Voldemort_," Tonks cut in.

"- is currently focused on intercepting the Ministry of Magic. He believes that they are on low guard, with the Minister refusing to believe his return-"

"I wonder who told him about that, hey, Snivellus?" Black snarled.

"The Daily Prophet. Haven't you seen the stuff they're writing about Harry and Professor Dumbledore?" Tonks replied smoothly,"'_That's so ridiculous, we could put a lightning scar on it.'_ You know it, Sirius. It isn't exactly a secret what the Minister believes." she gave him a glare.

"You were saying, Severus?" Dumbledore cut in the argument. Tonks sat back in her chair, with a defeated sigh.

"He believes that the Ministry contains something he needs. He's...quite vague about what exactly it is he needs, he says it is 'something he didn't have last time'. His next aim is the death of Potter. He believes once the Death Eaters have found power and the Ministry falls, everything will go very smoothly. That is how far he goes in conferring with-"

Sirius had got up from his seat abruptly, chair scraping loudly as he flung it back. Snape's lip curled in disgust at the wasted features, he was so familiar to seeing, and hating...

"Yes, Black?" he sneered at him.

"Let's just say, I don't trust old Snivelly," he said hotly, "What if he's double crossing us? He's not given us a valid reason to trust him-"

Snape stood up too, hand clutched around his wand.

"_I_ trust him, Sirius, and he's given _me _a valid reason to trust him," Dumbledore stood up too, "And if you trust me, you trust him. He is part of the Order, one of us."

And as the conference came to an end, Snape stormed out, cursing Black in his head, wishing he were still locked up in Azkaban...


	2. Guess Who?

**~*GUESS WHO*~**

_~The Auror Office, Ministry of Magic~_

"TONKS, FOR GOD SAKE! LOOK WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" Moody roared, as Tonks stumbled over his wooden leg.

"Woops. Didn't see your leg," she gave a nervous smile at the scowling wizard, 'back to see how the Auror office worked nowadays', in his own words. Everyone knew it was really because he missed it.

"Our Tonks don't see half the world before her," chuckled Kingsley Shacklebot, flipping a magazine, feet up on the table.

"Huh, well... I don't see you doing anything useful!" she came back with a feeble comeback, determined not to let the matter lie.

"And may I ask you - kindly - what you're doing that's useful?" he smirked, fanning the already blazing fire. Tonks fumed, hair burning as red as her cheeks. Kingsley winked to let her know it was only a friendly joke.

Tonks trundled back to her office angrily. It was a tiny room, with a minuscule window ( something the other Aurors longed to posses) and pasted with posters, pictures and other random paraphernalia, perched untidily on crooked shelves. There were numerous posters of the Weird Sisters, the only things that were actually tidy, unlike the rest of the messy room.

Dropping heavily into a wooden chair, Tonks thought about what the wizarding world was coming to - something she normally wouldn't do.

_Lord Voldemort was back_, she thought,_ a load of other people are going to die, and either a) we win, or b) we lose. Well. That gives us a lot of options to decide from(!)_

She sighed and took a random paper out of her filing cabinet.

"'_By the Order of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, no internal, or classified information shall be leaked from the Ministry of Magic, for the safety of the public and Ministry workers.'_ Yeah, more like don't tell Dumbledore anything." she snorted under her breath.

She paused.

Something wasn't right.

The Auror office was...

Quiet.

She stepped outside to hear an indistinct, female voice, closer to the heart of the office. She cautiously stepped over a chair leg, determined to enter the scene unnoticed, only to trip over her shoelaces. The voice stopped.

"Damn!" she hissed, flicking her wand angrily at her shoes, to tie the laces, to have them knot together angrily, furiously disobeying her wand commands.

She walked around the corner to find all the Aurors wandering towards a table near the enterance, and behind the table stood a squat, short woman, in a pink cardigan, wearing a Cheshire cat grin.

"Oh, er... Hi-" Tonks faltered at a smile. "I'm Tonks." Umbridge cocked her head to the side, studying her.

"Tonks? Hmm... Are you an Auror?" she simpered. Tonks immediately took a dislike to her.

"Heh... Well, I'm in the Auror office... So, yes. I am an Auror, naturally," she smiled forcefully. Kingsley looked up at her, and Mad-Eye came clunking in.

"What's going on here? Why aren't you all- Oh, er, hello." Moody's eye drifted over to Umbridge. "Madam Umbridge, how may I help you?"

"I don't need... help," she gave a disapproving look, up and down Mad-Eye, lingering on the electric blue eye, whizzing in it's socket. "Minister Fudge has asked me to inform the Auror office, that all applicants for the B.O.G.G.A.R.T promotion test, for newly graduated Aurors, must return their application forms by Monday."

And with a smug look at the Aurors (some of whom looked like they'd lost something), she gave a small 'Hmph!' noise, and left.

"Bloody Under-Secretary." Moody growled, handing a panicked Tonks her application form.

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><p>Please comment, I love it when you guys tell me what to do. Otherwise I'll think I'm talking to myself... :) And thanks to SpencerReid, and Fluffy-san for that amazing review (I'm rather proud of that paragraph myself!)<p> 


	3. Sometimes, Coincidences Happen

**Thank you to SpencerReid for an amazing review on Snape's character, seclinalunica for a wonderful review, and Elanordh.**

**Good stuff coming up, and reviews make me happy! (Hint, hint...)**

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><p><strong> ~*SOMETIMES, COINCIDENCES HAPPEN*~<strong>

_~The news of Umbridge's employment is spread through Hogwarts~_

"Minerva!" Pomona Sprout ran into the staff room, cheeks red, hair windswept and hat crooked. McGonagall lowered her copy of _Transfiguration Today _and looked up in concern, as the pudgy Herbology teacher leant on the arm of her chair, huffing and puffing. "M-Minerva!"

"Calm down, Pomona! Calm down and explain yourself properly!" she pushed Professor Sprout into the armchair beside her, with a slow _whoosh _as she sank in it.

"Dumbledore-Dumbledore..." she started breathlessly.

"Dumbledore what_?_ What, Pomona?" McGonagall asked impatiently.

In the corner, reading a copy of '_Dark Magical Creatures, and Counter Curses to Destroy Them,_' Severus Snape's lip curled in sour amusement, witnessing the fat Herbology teacher try (and fail) to get a message through to McGonagall.

"He-he...employed...n-new...Defence...teacher..." she finally managed.

Snape's smirk fell, and the change in expression was so quick, it would have been comical.

Unfortunately, the rage he emitted would give one every reason not to laugh.

Ah, what goes around, comes back around.

"What? Who? How do you know?" McGonagall was now so impatient, she was shaking Professor Sprout by the shoulder, relentlessly.

"Dolores..Um-Umbridge-"

But Snape heard no more of that conversation. With an angry snarl, he got up furiously and stormed out, ready to hex anyone who dared step in his path.

His path to the office of Albus Dumbledore.

"Peppermint Humbugs," he said in a dangerous whisper. The gargoyle stepped aside without further ado, revealing the ascending stone steps. He did not linger on the steps; he bolted up them two at a time, and rapped continually and rapidly on the door.

"Enter," came the calm voice behind the door.

Snape banged the door open, the hinges squeaking desperately, as if threatening to break away.

"Dumbledore," he hissed, almost struggling to keep his boiling rage under control.

"Severus," Dumbledore replied smartly, twinkle in his eye. "Have a seat. Sherbet Lemon?"

Snape dropped almost elegantly into a chair before Dumbledore and his desk. He ignored the polite offering of sweets, returning it with an impolite snarl.

"I hear... you have recruited a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Of course, Severus. You don't expect me to lower the standard of our school by going the year without a Defence teacher, do you?" he answered pacifically, as if he had no idea where this conversation was heading.

"And who, may I ask, have you employed?"

"Dolores Umbridge,"

"Her experience in the position?"

"She is Head Under Secretary to Cornelius Fudge," Dumbledore replied, a twinge of guilt in his voice.

"Fudge? The _Ministry_? What happened to all that empty talk about not letting the Ministry to meddle with Hogwarts? What do you mean by this?" Snape said, disbelieving.

"Well, it was... a matter of force... You do understand what I mean, don't you, Severus?" he almost pleaded.

"No! No, I don't understand at all, Dumbledore!" he stood up and looked down at the old man, his blue eyes holding regret. "Let me ask you something, Dumbledore. Let me ask you something, that I want you to answer truthfully,"

Dumbledore did not respond.

"Why don't you trust me?"

It was not a sneer, not a snarl, not a drawl.

It was nothing short of unSnapish.

The sheer bluntness of the question had probably hit Dumbledore hard, because his mouth quivered open, and he done a great impression of a goldfish.

"Why?" Snape repeated, with such raw innocence, it made even himself a little shocked.

"I do! I-I do, Severus!" Dumbledore stuttered, the twinkle in his eye extinguished.

"Then why didn't you give the spot to me?" there was definitely venom in his voice this time.

"I had my reasons, Severus,"

Just then, the Floo roared and a bright, pink head could be visible as the figure span out of the mantle piece, stumbling as she came to a halt.

Tonks looked between Snape and Dumbledore twice, with a bland expression.

"Oh, sorry, I um..." she mumbled, heading back to the mantle piece.

"No, no, it's quite alright, Nymphadora, Severus will wait," Dumbledore gave a meaningful look towards Snape.

He moved to the corner of the room, and sank into a squishy armchair.

"Sherbet Lemon, Nymphadora?" Dumbledore asked, as Tonks plunked into the chair Snape had sat in moments ago.

"Oh, no thank you, Professor Dumbledore. And it's Tonks," she said uncomfortably. "I um... I heard you employed Dolores Umbridge?" she leaned forward, hands resting on the desk. Snape's rage almost ignited again, at the sentence she had uttered.

"Yes, yes I have," Dumbledore sighed.

"Well, she visited the Auror office a few times, and, well... She's not very pleasant," Snape hinted the heavy hesitation that came from the sentence.

"I have, of course, met her," Dumbledore replied, "And I agree with you, but I'm not sure I know exactly what you mean,"

Tonks' hair crackled red, and she stood up.

"Let's just say, she's an intolerable bitch, determined to get rid of all half-breeds, nothing short of blood prejudiced, and she came _this_ close to calling Kingsley Shacklebot a mudblood!" she raged, pacing up and down.

Dumbledore looked quite amused of her sudden outburst.

Her rage had somehow cooled Snape down, now knowing he was not the only one who despised the new 'Professor'.

"... and let's not forget her stupid girly simper, her fat grin that...urgghh! And she looks like a fat toad, and she proves wrong the saying 'looks can deceive'!" she stopped gasping for air, and looking quite angry, and then ashamed, as her hair turned a light brown.

"Well," Dumbledore chuckled, "I might be wrong, but I think you hate her!"

Snape realised he was smirking involuntarily, and immediately restored his placid expression. He stood up to straighten his robes as the other two occupants of the room ended their conversation. He moved towards the centre of the room, as Tonks moved to the fireplace.

"Oh, I forgot my-" she retreated to get a piece of parchment off the desk and tripped before Snape.

Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed her shoulders, to save her from a fall onto his shoes.

She quickly straightened up, blushing, while Snape was unsure what to do.

When in doubt - snarl.

"S-sorry, 'fessor Snape, I-I wasn't looking-" she stammered.

"It would have been quite a magnificent feat if you _were_ looking," he drawled. Much to his dismay, she smiled at his retort, grabbed the parchment and Flooed off, faster than you can say:

'Coincidences can happen.'


	4. Not a Book, A Journal

** Just for the gratitude and everything, I'd like to thank SpencerReid, for being an amazing help, seclinalunica, for reviewing, and UntalentedArtist, Luty Malfoy for subscribing. I really appreciate it, it gives me a boost!**

**My friends have also told me to write a disclaimer, so here goes:**

**Plot, mine (almost).**

**Writing, mine.**

**The world, not mine.**

**The characters, not mine.**

**I should plot to conquer the world. Maybe I'll get to own Harry Potter...**

**Sigh.**

**Drag your way through this chapter, and comment and criticise. It's an open market :)**

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><p><strong>~*<strong>**4.**** NOT A BOOK, A JOURNAL*****~**

Tonks had splinched. Not exactly horribly, but it wasn't a nice sight. She was outside Grimmauld Place, and the stars were only just appearing in the setting sky. All was well, until she had realised that she had three claw-like scars on the back of her hand.

"Damn it, I'm meant to be an Auror, and I can't even _Apparate_ properly!" she muttered angrily to herself, taking her wand out and almost dropping it. "This is how Merlin makes me pay for being a metamaphorgus! So clumsy, it's almost unbelievable..."

She tried to sort out the wound, just as it started raining, making the deep, raw cuts sting awfully. She tutted and threw her hands up in defeat, frustrated at how the world was so determined to disagree with her.

She threw her head back, and insanely started talking to the sky.

"Thanks, whoever's up there! You've made my day, you have!" she snarled, voice dripping heavily with sarcasm.

Just then, Severus Snape arrived before Grimmauld Place, unsteady on his Apparition once more.

This time, it was because he had bumped directly into Tonks.

Naturally, it was Tonks who suffered most from this collision, and she land on the wet, muddy ground before Snape. She scowled and got up, cleaning herself with an angry wave of the wand.

"It would _help_, if you didn't stand _directly_ upon the Apparition point!" he hissed at her through gritted teeth.

Mad with anger, and positively steaming, she snarled back at him; "And it would _help_ if you could stop being such an intolerable _git_!"

"I beg your pardon?" he drawled quietly, as if daring her to reply.

She gave a small 'Gah!' of frustration, and stormed toward the hidden house, regardless of what she had just done, and her restlessly bleeding hand, that was numb already.

Molly Weasley opened the door, and Tonks was followed in by Snape, and it was quite hard to distinguish who was scarier at the moment.

"Tonks, love, your hand's bleeding!" Molly Weasley fussed over her hand and had it healed far more effectively than her own feeble attempt.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," she said grumpily, and Molly Weasley replied this with a knowing smile.

"Had a bad day?" she asked gently.

"Worse," Tonks grumbled. Mrs Weasley gave a small, friendly chuckle.

"It'll be over soon. Before you know it, it'll be the end of tomorrow," she answered in a motherly fashion.

"But how will it end?" Tonks asked quietly.

"That's the point, isn't it? We have to live on, to find out!" Mrs Weasley said cheerfully. She had clearly not understood what Tonks had meant, the niggling worries at the back of her head, telling her the wizarding world would end in tatters...

Tonks was in such a glum mood for the rest of the meeting, she failed to notice anything, or understand the topics discussed. She didn't even realise that Snape was occasionaly shooting her dirty looks, and failed to grasp the piece of information that would have told her that Harry Potter had arrived at Grimmauld Place, only this evening (and she didn't hear the low snarl from Snape that followed, obviously from the pain of being in the same building as Harry Potter)...

The screech of chairs from around her jolted her awake. She shot up, sending the chair flying backwards.

"Tonks, for gods sake! Stop being such a ruddy idiot!" Moody tutted, "It's a bloody wonder how you ended up in the Auror Office!"

"OK," Tonks replied blandly and airily, as the seam of Tonks' bag ripped. The small shoulder bag had obviously been under an undetectable Enlargement Charm, because the contents that spilled out were seemingly impossible to fit in it.

Moody snorted his dismay and clunked out of the room, while Tonks repaired her bag hastily and sent all the paraphernalia of books, quills and pieces of parchment, racing into the bag.

Meanwhile, in the corner, Severus Snape was having a dilemma.

_Leave it, she'll notice it herself._

What if she doesn't?

_When have you cared?_

Well, it could be important to her...

_Damn it, Severus Snape, what are you? The peacekeeping unity?_

But-

But it was too late.

Tonks had looked up at him, searching for a reason why he was lingering and staring at her.

_Happy now?_

"You dropped your book," he said bluntly.

"I dropped all my books," she replied dumbly.

"No, I mean-" he walked up and picked up her book for her.

_Well done, you have achieved the factor: embarrassing yourself like a fucking idiot._

"Oh," she stared as though she had never seen it before and then reached out and took it. "Thank you,"

But he wasn't listening. In her funky, curly scrawl, she had printed the words :

'The Rebirth of Lord Voldemort', on the cover of what was not a book, but a journal.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5 Coming soon...<strong>


	5. War

**Thanks yet again, to SpencerReid and seclinalunica, and also Nymma**

**Thanks for the support!**

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><p><strong>~*5. WAR *~<strong>

_~Later that evening~_**  
><strong>

"Professor Dumbledore?" Tonks looked up from her journal, to catch sight of Dumbledore and Moody sharing a drink at the kitchen table. Dumbledore met her gaze.

It was 7 o'clock in the evening, and Molly Weasley was preparing dinner for the Order, solely distracted while slicing tomatoes.

"Yes, Nymphadora?"

"D'you think this will all end in a war?" she asked nervously. Mrs Weasley's process of cutting slowed.

Dumbledore paused and considered. Moody took advantage.

"'Course it will. Always does!"

Mrs Weasley dropped a tomato.

"It didn't, last time," Tonks replied, doubt apparent in her voice.

"Indirect war. That's why you need constant vigilance!" his electric eye stopped whizzing, and dauntingly focused on her, "And you should watch your step, Tonks. Someone like you, both in the Ministry's Auror Office, in the Order, and bloody clumsy. You'll be targeted, if you're found out. And that Snape's probably already tattled on you!" he snorted.

"It's not his fault. I'd be tongue-tied if I had to confront Voldemort faithfully," she shuddered.

"Not tongue-tied," Dumbledore sipped his mead.

Mrs Weasley continued her work even more loudly, as if trying to block out the conversation.

"What?" Tonks questioned.

"Not tongue-tied. Severus Snape is an accomplished Occlumens, and was he not, he would be as good as dead," Dumbledore explained, " Sometimes, he must feed himself lies and force himself to temporarily believe them, so he will not be found out. Other times, he must simply keep calm, and try and block the world's most accomplished Legilemens out of certain regions in his mind,"

"But that's horrible!" Tonks gaped, "He rips his mind open, uses him as a servant, and in the end, he'll probably kill him off himself!"

"He deserves it, scheming little traitor-" Moody muttered darkly.

"As for war, yes. It will probably either end with a significant death, like the death of James and Lily Potter last time, a war or some sort of fight between good and evil," Dumbledore cut in, draining his cup. Mrs Weasley took it from him hastily, and filled it up again.

"The powerful and the weak," Tonks mumbled. Dumbledore's head snapped up. "Harry told me," she explained. Dumbledore eased noticeably.

"'Fessor Dumbledore, don't tell me you thought I was hanging around with Death eaters!" she laughed, and then sighed, and started studying her journal again, "Probably wouldn't accept me, anyway. Too clumsy..."

"Now what you mean by that, young lady?" Mrs Weasley stopped her work and turned to face her, anxiety playing on her face, her glance meeting Tonks' forearm.

"I'm only saying, nothing serious! Merlin, Mrs Weasley, do I look like I would be carrying a Dark Mark?" Tonks cried.

"Can't trust anyone nowadays... it's the same as last time..." she mumbled, blushing red.

There was a long pause, the only noise was Mrs Weasley's cooking, and Tonks' indistinct tap of the wand on parchment.

"Aren't you meant to be practising for your test, Tonks?" Moody asked.

"Yes," she replied distractedly, tapping the journal with her wand.

"So, why aren't you?" Moody asked, slightly confused.

"It's a Transfiguration test, note the 'T' at the end of the abbreviation 'B.O.G.G.A.R.T'," she replied sardonically.

Moody snorted.

"What, are you trying to get me to leave the room, or-" she started to get up.

"No, it's just, you seem to be spending a lot of time with that book," he gestured her journal with his staff, "Better not be recording information. You know we burn all our parchment and blueprints,"

"You always seem to treat me like a child, Mad-Eye!" she sighed.

"It's because you're always ACTING like one!" he roared, his mood swinging without warning, "You better get a grip, Tonks, because if you don't, you'll be first to die!"

Mrs Weasley dropped her wand. Dumbledore shot Moody a warning look. Tonks paused, colour draining from her hair, leaving it white.

"I won't," she said quietly, quivering, "I-I'm an Auror,"

"BETTER AURORS THAN YOU'VE DIED BEFORE! STUPID GIRL! WHY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND-" Moody stood up angrily.

"Alaistor!" Dumbledore cut in, dragging his shoulder down.

Tonks got up shakily, tears welled up in her eyes, either out of frustration, angst or unhappiness, she didn't know. She turned to leave the room.

"No, Nymphadora!" Dumbledore called, but she'd left.

She raced into the uninhabited room, tears streaming down her face.

_He's only being horrible._

He might be, but it's true. Your clumsiness will end in tears.

_Don't say that like you don't know it-_

"Hey, hey, Tonks!" Sirius appeared in the room.

She tried to wipe away the tears without him noticing they were there.

She failed.

And before she knew it, Sirius was giving her a hug and trying to be nice.

"Sirius?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think I'll die?"

"Everyone dies, love,"

"I know that. I'm asking whether my clumsiness will kill me,"

Pause.

"Nymphadora, you stupid little girl! You dishonour the noble house of Black!" he said in an uncanny voice of her grandmother.

That triggered the laughter.

"I only saw her once," she said.

"Oh, what a shame," he said sarcastically.

"You were there. She couldn't stand the sight of me! Called me a 'filthy half blood',"

"Yes, and you looked like you couldn't give a damn,"

"I don't think I could waste a damn on her. We were the outcasts, you the Gryffindor, me the half-blood. I still got sorted into Slytherin, though,"

"Oh, yuck!" he smirked.

"Shut up, Sirius!"

"Said the Slytherin. Or what?"

"Said the Gryffindor. That's a whole other war,"

"Tell me something I don't know, dear Slytherin. D'yknow, I think if you'd charmed a Gryffindor banner, then a Slytherin banner, and hung them up next to each other in the Great Hall, they would start ripping each other up,"

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><p><strong>There's something to think about! I guess it was a filler chapter. Review, please! :) <strong>


	6. An ordeal with Umbridge

**I'm very sorry that it's taken so long to upload. It's a hard life. Especially with Maths GCSE's. Yeurgh. So here it is, a very long awaited chapter.**

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><p><strong>~*6. AN ORDEAL WITH UMBRIDGE*~<strong>

_~*A day before the start of term*~_

"He-hem," came a girly simper behind Snape. He whirled around, expecting to see the frog of a woman behind him. His office was meant to be strictly out of bounds to her.

However, he found Nymphadora Tonks before him.

It was a very acute impression of Umbridge.

The office was still strictly out of bounds.

He opened his mouth to come back with a sarcastic reply, and then realised he didn't know how to address her.

_Miss Tonks?_

He'd never heard anything so awkward.

Tonks started to laugh.

"Wotcher. I see you've met the old toad, then!"

So he didn't address her at all.

"What might you be doing in my office?" he snarled.

"Er, to see if you've met Umbridge?" she tried.

"And business of yours is that?"

"Ok, fine. That's not entirely why I came here," she sighed.

Curious, Snape remained silent.

And Tonks, unwisely, waited for a reply.

When she realised no comment was going to come, she sighed again.

"Came to give you this," she mumbled, and walked up to him.

He looked at her warily.

She sent a quick Summoning Charm, and Snape saw a shimmer of a something fly into her hand, from her bag.

It was a small envelope.

"What is it?" Snape asked, slightly impatient.

Tonks took no notice of this. Slowly, she took out a moving photograph out of the envelope. Snape leaned his head a little, to get a clearer view. The photograph was hidden from his view.

"Two Order meetings ago, you, um, left your seat and dropped this," she said quietly, "I reckoned you might want it back again,"

Startling him, she took his hand gently and pressed the photograph lightly on his palm.

It was Lily.

He remembered searching his pockets and growing frustrated as he could not find the photograph, straight after he had Apparated outside Hogwarts.

In the picture, she was smiling, the red hair flying to her side, a few strands in her eyes, her green eyes dazzling, even in the picture.

She was as beautiful as ever.

The top end of the photo was creased and blotchy.

"I couldn't fix that bit. I'm sorry," Tonks burst out.

He looked up from the photo, almost forgotten she was there.

"Fix? What did you need to fix?" he questioned.

"Well, it was raining that day, and it had gone all blotchy and creased. I only managed to fix it. Apart from that corner," she babbled.

Snape considered this.

"Why did you not give it to someone who knew how to fix it properly?" he snarled, "I understand Corcumbulous' in Diagon Alley works with frames and photographs?"

At this, Tonks heated up.

Why did he not understand?

"What do you think he would say, if turned up in his shop along with the public, with a photo of Lily Evans, the woman who saved the world from Voldemort, written on the back: 'My sweet Lily'?" she hissed, hair turning red.

Snape went a little red; he'd hoped she'd failed to notice that detail.

"He'd think I was a lesbian!" she cried.

He couldn't help it- his face quivered into a quirky smile.

Tonks didn't know whether to laugh or snarl.

When in doubt- laugh.

He looked down at the picture.

"Thank you, Tonks," he said, as Tonks wordlessly turned to leave.

"You're welcome," she said airily, leaving the room breezily.

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><p><em>~The next day~<em>

"Hem-hem," came the girly, deliberate cough.

Not bothering to turn around, Snape answered.

"Yes?" he inquired waspishly.

"Manners, Professor Snape!" Umbridge cried, almost sarcastic in her mock surprise.

Snape whirled around, cloak lapping at her shins.

Too close. Awkwardly close.

"My office is out of bounds to all students and staff, sans the Headmaster, and anyone here by his order," he snapped, looking down at her in distaste.

"And how do you know I'm not here by his order?" she simpered, cocking her fat head to the side.

_Because he wouldn't go _near _you, let alone tell you to do something for him, you gorgon._

"And I also have reason to believe Nymphadora Tonks was absent from the Auror office, yesterday, between the hours of 1:30 pm and 1:45 pm," she grinned, leaving Snape's lip curling on it's own accord, "To visit your office,"

"And how would you know she wasn't here on Head Auror's orders?" he echoed her.

"Because the Head Auror herself reported her AWOL absence," she grinned even wider. Snape had the urge to turn away.

He'd never seen such a horrid woman in his life.

His last encounter with her was brief and purely accidental:

He'd had a conversation with Dumbledore about his Death Eater calling.

He'd walked down the stone steps, and past the gargoyle.

And she'd bumped right into him around the corner.

And she'd smiled (or at least tried to).

And left.

"Well?" she simpered.

"She was here to hand me a possession I had accidentally left behind in the Three Broomsticks. I was also under the impression she came during her break," he snarled, voice bitter and unwelcoming. The lie came easily; it was in his nature.

Lie, or die.

Or something along those lines.

"The Three Broomsticks? No doubt you were thoroughly inebriated. And 'during her break'? Those lazy idiots that lounge about in the Ministry of Magic do nothing but have breaks!" she warbled, yet still managed to maintain her grin - unfortunately.

Snape remained silent.

He was worried his mouth may accidentally blurt out what his mind was whirring with, at the moment.

Finally, when the vulture refused to back down, he said through gritted teeth,

"Would you care to leave, now, Madam...Umbridge?"

"_Professor _Umbridge, Snape. Good day," and she saved him of his misery, with a swish of pink tweed rounding the corner.

'Professor' Umbridge, she'd said.

Yet she'd had the nerve to rob him of his own title.

He stood, seething with silent anger, and then managed to contain his snarl.

Barely.

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><p><strong>Please give me some encouragement, or tell me I'm stupid, or ANYTHING! Just review! PLEASE!<strong>


	7. A Drink, A Slap, A sigh 1

**"Finally!" I hear you sigh. So sorry. I haven't had the time.**

**Well, here you go!**

**Oh yeah, and thanks so very, very much to SpencerReid, and Seclinalunica for unstucking me!**

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><p><strong>~*A DRINK, A SLAP, A SIGH*~<strong>

"Is that all, Severus? Nothing else about what he so desperately wants?" Dumbledore pressed anxiously.

"No, Albus, nothing else," he sighed, impatience hinted in his voice.

The faces of the member Orders were clearly disappointed.

It was like they were blaming him!

"Umbridge is annoying," Tonks' weak voice suddenly broke the silence, from his side.

He jumped, heart leaping into his mouth.

He hadn't realised she was there. She was missing her bold as brass aura, and she looked extremely glum, hunched over the table.

She looked, so, so tired; her normally jaunty hair a dull grey; horrible, over-large bags under her eyes, and she looked as though she had been crying.

Snape felt pangs of pity playing on his heart strings.

But ignored them.

Everyone was staring at Tonks now, concerned expressions on their faces.

Tonks' bottom lip quivered, as if she were about to cry. She leaned back on the table again, lost in her thoughts.

"Right. Everyone clear out, now!" Moody roared, as the room emptied rapidly.

"Let's all the blokes go for a drink! In celebration of Lupin's success in finding werewolves on our side! I've been promoted, so it's on me! Guess it's my celebration too," Kingsley's deep voice cut above the quiet chatter.

Baritone cheers rose.

Cheers that Snape ignored.

Because of memories he preferred to block.

"What about me?" Sirius asked, hurt in his voice.

"You can be my overgrown pet dog! I doubt Lucius Malfoy goes to The Three Broomsticks, probably goes to Le Baugette Magique, or whatnot," Lupin smirked, "Come on, Severus! It's on us!"

"Yeah, in case you can't afford it!" Sirius sneered.

Snape shook his head sharply, desperately trying to block back memories...

"_...bring me my tumbler, woman!..._"

"Aaw, can Snivellus not take alcohol? Or maybe he can't stand being with other human beings?"

_"What do you mean 'we're out of beer'? WHAT?"_

There were several scolding whispers from the men gathered around Sirius.

Snape turned around, ignoring Sirius, more concerned about what was happening to him.

_His mother, lying on the floor, beaten, after a whole day at the pub for his father..._

He grasped the table, closing his eyes and scowling, as Sirius' jeering grew worse by the second- he could tell by his tone, but he couldn't hear the words...

No... not a flashback... he'd promised himself... no more flashbacks, you have your life at risk, idiot! You can't just let old memories wander into your mind again!

The sneering had stopped.

And was continued by an angry female voice.

"... I remember what you did to him at school! He doesn't need to go for a drink if he doesn't want to!" Tonks was shouting at Sirius, hair flickering red.

Sirius took this in with a laugh.

"Oh look, Snivelly! You have little Nymphadora to help you-"

SLAP!

A series of 'oooh!'s gathered from the men.

Snape turned.

Tonks had slapped Sirius, making him recoil.

He snarled and backed away, as they all left for the pub.

Tonks looked back swiftly, and leaned against the wall with the sigh.

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><p><strong><em>Read and review, please! I need to know how I'm doing! This chapter continues...<em>**


	8. Comfort

**Sorry it's taken so long to post, it's exam season again. Sigh.**

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><p><strong>*~ COMFORT~<em>*<em>**

"You do realise... that you've just back-handed your uncle?" Snape asked quietly, dragging his gaze to the flustered Auror leaning against the wall before him.

Tonks looked up as though she had just been interrupted out of deep thoughts.

"What? Oh... yeah. Uncle?" she puzzled.

"Isn't he your uncle?"

"Dunno. Always referred to him as 'Sirius'," she looked up at him through weary eyes.

Snape was stricken with quiet shock.

Mrs Weasley's stress was understandable; she had an extended family, the given circumstances, and the Order to deal with.

But Tonks?

If you were fair, you could say she looked worse.

Especially her eyes.

Mrs Weasley's copper eyes were always copper. They nearly always had light bags, and a weary, worn-out look.

Tonks' eyes were always different. You'd have to look carefully to notice, but they were. They always had a bright spark to them, and the twinkle could almost compete with Albus Dumbledore's. They were always coloured, never dark.

Even now, with the striking weariness, they were visibly light-brown.

Not sparkly, twinkly, purple; grey; golden; hazel; green; blue...

Light brown, bloodshot and heavily bagged.

Snape cocked his head in silent anticipation.

"Are you alright?" he found his mouth saying on it's own accord.

Tonks stared meaningfully, and her eyes unexpectedly swam with tears, and she shook her head.

Snape hated it.

_Loathed_ it.

He hated standing helplessly, in front of someone in distress, without doing anything.

He abhorred it, because he'd been thrust in the situation a fair few times, and knew how terrible it made him feel.

He despised it, because of what it reminded him of.

It reminded him of standing in front of a crying Lily, when her father had passed.

_While he did nothing._

Of watching his mother writhing in pain, after his father had spent the day at the pub and taken it out on her.

_While he did nothing._

Just because he didn't know what to do.

A slow tear trickled down Tonks' cheek.

Thinking fast is what Snape was good at.

But not when it came to comfort.

_Comfort._

The amount of times he had mindlessly sneered and dismissed the word was inconceivable.

The amount of times he'd regretted it, equally.

But now-

"Tonks?" he said softly, trying not to think about how awkward the word tasted in his mouth.

She tried to look away and hide her tears.

What was he supposed to do now?

"Don't cry," he said quietly.

And regretted how feeble and pathetic it had sounded.

"I-I'm sorry for putting you in such... an awkward situation," she sniffed and looked away, wiping her tears on the sleeves of her leather jacket.

Part of him was glad that she had understood him.

Another part of him was worrying what to do next.

"That's not going to do much," Snape said and conjured a handkerchief, holding it out for her.

She hesitated, and took it.

"Thank you," she said, "I'm feeling a bit... everything at once,"

"Umbridge?" he tried, remembering her maladroit outburst during the meeting.

She looked up.

"Yes, and... and- never mind, don't worry about it, it wasn't important-"

"No one cries silently for something unimportant," he said genially.

Tonks looked genuinely surprised. Snape felt out of place, and decided to ignore it.

"That promotion Kingsley was talking about? I failed the test for it. My mum keeps telling me I need to find someone, and it's getting on my nerves. I need rent money, and that promotion was the only way I was going to pay it, without having to ask the family for money. Moody keeps telling me I'm going to die, until he reduces me to tears. No one seems to understand what I'm talking about, and Molly thinks I'm going mad! Dumbledore offered me company for a trip to St Mungo's for godssake!" she burst out angrily.

Snape took a moment and no more, to realise what she had just said.

"Mrs Weasley thinks you're going mad?" Snape asked, pulling out two chairs and inviting her to sit.

She sat down clumsily and ran her fingers through her hair.

Snape dropped elegantly into the chair opposite.

"Well, I burst out with stuff, randomly, sometimes. Because I'm thinking all this, and well... no one listens, so it just..." she blushed a little.

Snape remained silent, so she continued.

"I spend a lot of time writing in the journal, and I'm alone a lot... Oh, I dunno!" she threw her hands up in frustration.

"Can I see the journal?" he asked, "Or is it private?"

Tonks looked as though he'd asked the impossible.

And suddenly held out the journal.

Snape took it and opened it carefully.

Photographs had been embedded into the parchment pages, and her curly scrawl surrounded and filled the pages. It was about the rebirth of Voldemort, as the cover suggested, but the detail was surprisingly accurate. Some of the material looked as though she had spent ages researching, like five double pages on the Order of the Phoenix.

But the last few, written pages were different.

Her curly writing had turned into an impatient, more masculine script, and it was amazing that the same person had written the earlier pages.

The pages were on the Dark side.

Voldemort.

Death Eaters.

Him.

He froze.

A page that contained the name 'Severus Snape' and a picture of him, that he would've liked to know where she had found, had he not been so startled.

It contained nothing more, nothing less.

Just the name and a photo.

He tilted the book so that she could see.

She swayed a little, but her expression remained the same.

"You realise, should any of this reach the wrong hands, the members of the Order will be murdered?" he asked with an arch of the brow.

"And you do realise that that page has more writing on it?" she replied.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, considering if she really was insane.

"It's sealed. It needs my blood to be revealed, and nothing else works. Not even Dark magic," Tonks answered.

Snape tapped his wand on the paper with all the spells he knew (a few forbidden ones), and even daubed Revealing potion on it.

And looked up in amazement, as the stubborn parchment refused to let anything on.

"May I see the content of this page?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"'Course you can," she replied.

Snape handed her back the book.

She took out a silver blade, and Snape jerked a little forward, questioning to himself if she should handle the knife.

She drew a deep cut savagely through the palm of her hand, as if she wanted it to hurt.

And she smeared her blood all over the page, wincing as the page drew the blood in and used it to manifest the words.

Blood continually dripped all over the parchment. She gave a little moan, searching her pockets for her wand.

Snape grabbed her hand and healed it, after it was apparent she was not going to do so herself, any time soon.

She sighed with relief and handed the journal back to him.

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><p><strong>If you want more, review!<strong>

**If you love it, review!**

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**(Promise the next chapter comes sooner than this one. It positively took ages for this one.)**


	9. A short conversation

**Here it is, people! The long-awaited chapter!**

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><p>The picture had begun to move, and the photograph Snape was scowling and snarling<p>

"This is it?" Snape asked, dismayed by the quality and quantity of the writing.

"What more could you want?" Tonks asked dryly.

_Severus Snape, double agent to the Dark Side, and the Order of Phoenix. No one knows where his loyalties lie, but Albus Dumbledore, founder of the Light, trusts in him._

"A bit more writing, perhaps?" he asked sourly.

"That's how much everyone knows. Everyone has their theories, but who knows the truth," Tonks replied blankly.

Snape slammed the book shut and looked up. Tonks dragged her eyes toward him.

"People are talking behind my back," he growled.

"It would be a bit strange if they didn't. You're a double agent at dangerous times. Who knows what's going on inside your noggin, behind all that greasy hair," Tonks yawned.

Snape snarled.

"What?" Tonks said impatiently.

Snape cocked his head in confusion.

"Why do you keep snarling?" Tonks stamped her foot lightly.

Snape was silent.

What was he meant to say?

_I always snarl?_

He'd rather keep silent. She was looking at him in that curious way people did sometimes. Not staring...but searching.

"Yes?" he demanded.

She blinked, and after a small pause, she opened her mouth, about to say something, but she closed it again.

"Do you have something to say?" he tried to be polite.

She opened her mouth again, but this time she spoke.

"What does he hold over your heads?"

Snape did not speak. Not because he didn't understand what had just been asked of him, but because he refused to understand.

"Oh. Sorry. Never mind-sorry," she bit back her words after she witnessed his glazed reaction.

"Power, promises and fear," he answered quietly.

Sometimes, he didn't mind talking to the funky metamophorgi. Although she had childish ways and she didn't really understand as much as others around her, she had the patience to listen and sympathise with others. She wasn't simple, but she wasn't very smart either.

"What?" she stared at him, expecting answers.

"He promises them power... reads their minds and finds their greed. And once he has you under his full scrutiny, you have-you have no choice. It's a matter or remain faithful or die. The fear... keeps them under control," he said quitely.

"What did he promise you?" she asked gently.

He stood up, with a snarl.

"None of your business," he scowled, anger flames in his eyes, as he stormed out of the room, desperately trying to clear his head.

Tonks stood up too, fazed, and then numbly walked out of the door, mind spinning.

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><p><strong>I know it wasn't all what you bargained for, but hey, write me review saying just that!<strong>


	10. The Giant Squid

**A lot of people read and reviewed the previous chapter, and I had lots of comments about the length of the chapter. I really appreciate it, folks, and so your wish is my command!**

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><p><strong>*THE GIANT SQUID*<strong>

Tonks had never liked the beginning of term, but that was only because you had double Potions frequently in the mornings.

She didn't really know why she had come over to Hogwarts that beginning of term evening. It was a cold, dark drizzly time of day, as it usually is, past noon in September. Her excuse was that she was accompanying Reily Connor, the friendly Auror that lived in the next office to her, but even Reily knew that wasn't the core reason.

Ever since Moody had shouted at her about getting a grip on life, she had begun to take things a little bit more seriously. She had never really understood why people treated her like a child, even people the same age as her. True, she liked to act a fool sometimes, taking advantage of her metamorphorgi gift, but was that all it took for people to look down on you?

She had wandered over to the small, creaky, harbour over the Black Lake mindlessly, taking not to lean on the dangerously unstable looking barrier.

The giant squid had always kept her entertained, even as a small child at Hogwarts. While others talked about their books and what to do over the holdays, which over the years changed to topic of boys and hairstyles, Nymphadora Tonks had stood around, pretending to lidten, while really observing the dark pink tentacles rise and ebb over the murky water.

Tonks had only once dated someone during her school years, and that was a small, unpopular boy called Orlando Plum, whom she had had an embarassing crush on. However, after many days of being teased and jeered, they had soon broke up and Tonks had abandoned all thoughts on boys.

Tonks sat down on a creaky plank on the harbour and watched as the rain caused little puddles on the surface of the already disturbed water. It made the strangest sound; rather like the delicate tingling of champagne glasses making contact. So while Tonks listened to the rain and watched for the squid, something that was not native in these waters swam below her, hunting for gillyweed and related paraphernalia.

When the squid first popped it's tentacle out of the water, Tonks smiled. As it played along the surface and gobbled a strange looking fish, Tonks wondered if he had an interesting life, or history living beneath Hogwarts' lake.

Did it wash along the lake as a child when the land had flooded?

Had it once had a family?

Did it like the company of students and people?

Or did it prefer their taste?

Something swam near the surface. This did not avoid Tonks' attention, and she stood up, clasping her wand tight. As if the squid could also detedt their unnacounted for visitor, it delved under the water with a series of bubbles and vanished.

Tonks watched as the shadow beneath the water circled the harbour and in this case, around her.

_Relax, _she told herself, _You're an Auror, you could handle this any day._

The silhouette grew darker and closer and burst out of the water, erupting the water, sending heavy droplets everywhere. Tonks held her wand even tighter, knuckles turning white.

But the sea creature, was indeed, not a sea creature.

As the figure squirmed a little on the floor, gasping for breath, Tonks realised two things; the left leg was swimmimg in blood. Secondly, as the figure lifted it's head, it was the visage of Severus Snape that scowled back. Slowly, he restored human form and gasped in pain. Tonks stared for a moment, while questioning her sanity.

After reaching a conclusion, she dropped to her knees and applied a drying charm, while Snape scrambled for his wand, pulling his trouser leg up to reveal a horrendous wound, from what looked like a deep bite mark. He gave a little groan, and seacrhed his pockets again.

"What happened?" Tonks asked gently, dragging him off the splintered plank he was resting on.

"You...you have a strange tendency to suddenly appear somewhere around me," he winced, palour a little drained.

"What happened?" Tonks repeated, "What should I do?"

Snape paused and considered, still breathing heavily.

"Reach into my robe pocket," he said quietely, "Inside, there is a small flask filled with bright green liquid. Just take that out,"

Tonks saw that his arms were quavering, just to hold up his weight. She nodded and reached into his robe pockets. To her dismay, her fingers met a series of bottles and flasks. She tries summouning it, but nothing happened.

"It's a small one, a bit round, glass," Snape said in reply to her frown.

After taking out three bottles, Snape's left arm gave away and she helped him lay down. She took a lucky dip and there was a small glass flask, filled with green liquid.

Snape tried to lift his head, but didn't manage, and so gave up with a breathless sigh. He was losing a lot of blood now, and Tonks panicked.

Snape cleared the wound with a shaky flick of the wand.

"Apply-apply it just over the top," Snape said, swallowing heavily, "It's Dittany," he explained.

Tonks transfigured her clean handkercheif into a cotton swab, and dabbed the dittany on softly.

Snape gave a gargled snarl.

"Sorry," Tonks said quietely, still wondering what else was left to do.

After applying the Dittany, Tonks was provided with some bandages, while a slightly revived Snape fed himself some more potions. After a moment, Snape got up far too swiftly for his condition and winced.

Wordlessly, they walked (and limped) all the way to the main entrance, with the occasional steadying grasp of an arm from Tonks, and the strangest eye avoiding silence between them.

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><p><strong>W<strong>**ell, what do you think? Read and review, to make my day.**

I can't wait to write more!


	11. Panic, Pain and Hot Chocolate

**There are numerous amazing people I'd like to thank: Chilla, SpencerReid and saramagician for sticking with me, MrsBates93 my amazing beta, and you, if you've read and reviewed.  
><strong>

**Here it is.**

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><p><strong>*PANIC, PAIN AND HOT CHOCOLATE*<strong>

The one thing Snape hated was being vulnerable. The other thing he hated was showing pain and weakness before others. This hate list continued for a long while, until it stopped abruptly with the name 'Harry Potter'.

Severus Snape was not an average man, and although he would not deny it, he would not admit it either. He did not go for drinks, or have a circle of friends to have a good time with. As a matter of fact, if you asked him, he probably could not recall the last time he had a good time (although he'd be most likely to hex you for asking). He was not an average man, because he had lost most of his desire for women, when he had lost his love. He would snarl at you for being kind, and snarl at you for hating him.

In fact, one could safely say, Severus Snape was a generally dislikable man, irregularly obstinate and sarcastic, with no desire to change his ways.

You couldn't blame him.

You could blame his parentage; the father who got drunk on a regular basis and being inebriated was his second nature, while his mother, limited witch, powerless before this muggle, allowed herself to stoop so low before her son. This resulted in Severus Snape drifting into a world of loneliness and neglect.

You could blame Lord Voldemort, who's terror had oozed and pasted themselves at first in Snape' dreams and later his mind. No one could go longer than a few weeks under the Cruciatus, without turning to stone, or crumbling into dust. He'd fed himself lies, forced himself to believe the untrue, so he would not be humiliated, be punished, be gawped at.

Severus Snape was anguished. Sometimes it was just too much for him. He was a man who wore his grudges under his billowing robes, taking them to heart without a second thought to what this may lead to.

He bore grudges against Lily Potter's death, and couldn't look in the mirror without blaming himself.

He bore grudges on the ordeal that the Marauders had made him go through, turning the place he had thought as his shining solace into living hell.

He bore grudges over becoming a Death Eater, and had more than once considered suicide.

Some days, he'd curl up in the corner of his stone, bedroom quarters, and let the hate, loathing, depression, anguish... All of it, just to sink in. While he was in his stormy sea of thoughts, he would not look up, he would not look to the light, but only to that goddamn Dark Mark, that had not only burnt his arm, but singed it's mark into his life and transformed it into something one could only pity.

Today was one of these days. He sat, slumped against the bathroom door, after numerously throwing up. He had just been called to Lord Voldemort, and having provided nothing the Dark Lord did not already know, he had been furiously excruciated.  
>He had reported back to Dumbledore with a talking patronus and nothing more. He could not let himself be seen in front of Madam Pomfrey, a broken and almost helpless man.<p>

His head throbbed angrily and his vision fazed a little, and so he forced his weary eyelids shut, as another wave of nausea passed through him. He dragged himself to the toilet and threw up again.  
>After a moments pause, he had flopped on the floor, only to realise a gash in his ribs was bleeding, soaking his robes in blood. He unawarely healed his chest and leaned his head against the wall again. He closed his eyes, begging for sleep that would never come through with this pain.<p>

Soft footsteps.

A light dripping.

Door creaking.

A little moan.

Snape opened his eyes and was confronted by a daze of blurred light and colour. He was only aware of someone growing closer. He tried to tell them to go away as spots of light hurt his eyes, but the only thing he managed was a hoarse, indistinct croak.

"Professor Snape?" came a quiet female voice.

Snape tried to mumble something again.

The female grew closer, and knealt down before him. He could see her outline, and...and he could smell her. She had a warm buttermilk smell...comforting buttermilk and hazelnut...

She pressed her hand against his sweating forehead.

"Can you see me, Professor?" she asked gently.

He shook his head helplessly. She poured a hot trickle of liquid down his throat.

"It's me, Tonks," she whispered softly in his ear. He suddenly grabbed her hand in desperation.

"Tonks?" he mumbled, as the potion she had fed him cleared his head a little, and warmed his quavering body, while she carressed and massaged his aching muscles.

"Professor, are you hurt?" she suddenly said in alarm. "Professor Snape, you're bleeding!"

When he replied with a faint lolling of the head, she gently charmed his shirt off, to find a large gash on his chest. She healed it with such care, he barely felt it, but then again, he could barely feel anything.

But he felt as she fed him another potion that sweetened his mouth and restored his sight gradually, and made him feel better.

He definitely felt it when she slowly clambered up onto his slumped form, clearing his hair from his face, pressing a kiss on his forehead, and pressing her head against his hard chest.

He was stunned by her. The gentle way she had carefully eased the physical and a light bit of mental pain away. She muttered something quietely, and then dabbed a cool towel over his forehead, his face, his neck, his heaving chest...

Snape could clearly see her now, but he told her nothing. The soft wet towel was so calming and mind clearing, he closed his eyes again and accepted her soft touch.

She didn't speak for a while, just daubing potions and the wet towel over stressed areas of his body, curing the great, purple bruises that covered his body like a patchwork pattern.

She gently touched the large gash on his chest, and he winced, eyes flying open.

"Is it still sore?" she bit her lip.

"Stating obvious questions does not get us anywhere," he mumbled. She looked a little hurt and broke the eye-contact, making Snape feel like an idiot.

She summouned something from her pocket, what looked like a little tub of cream. Dipping her fingers in the mixture, she took a sniff, and satisfied, rubbed it on her hands, making them glisten in the light.

In his light embarassment, he saw how she knealt between his legs, her thigh brushing softly against his as she leaned forward to apply the cream on his wounds and bruises.

The mixture relieved pain with such efficiency, it left him a little light headed.

She looked down and suddenly blushed, face conveying mixed emotions.

"You- you don't have any wounds or- or pain on your legs, do you?" she grimaced.

Snape looked at her and then, unexpectedly he gave a little smile  
>that led to laughter tripping off of his lips.<p>

Tonks blushed even further, hair turning a deep, hot pink. Snape stopped laughing in consideration, still amused by how particular she was by his nether regions.

"No, don't worry, I'm fine," relief coursed through Tonks at his words, and then she realised that he had laughed.

She pressed her head against his chest, praying he'd be alright.

Snape felt a surge of affection for her, as he got a hint of what was playing through her mind. Thoughts swarmed through his mind, including one question in particular; how had she got in his quarters?

He must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to Tonks covering him with the sheets as he lay in bed. He shot up, but Tonks' arm stopped him halfway up.

"I didn't mean to wake you, sorry," she gave a small, apologetic smile. He gave a little groan as he straightened his back.

She turned away, and turned back around with a steaming mug in her hands.

"I made you some hot chocolate," she grinned.

* * *

><p>Read and review, if you love like or hate. Flames are welcome, because I'm weird like that.<p> 


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